


clock on the wall (i will keep your hand from turning)

by felinedetached, SorrowsStars



Series: sticks and stones [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Grimdark, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Unreliable Narrator, this is the one where it starts to get dark yall lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinedetached/pseuds/felinedetached, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorrowsStars/pseuds/SorrowsStars
Summary: Dave may have been unable to save them from Time, but you can, and you will





	clock on the wall (i will keep your hand from turning)

**Author's Note:**

> _I call thee, beloved one  
>  to love me more than anyone  
> seven times I pierce my heart  
> and now you feel the magic start_
> 
> _bind thy heart and soul to me  
>  as I do will  
> so let it be, oh_
> 
> [\- Sticks and Stones, The Pierces](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAQY_x_GByw)

When you look down, your hands are shaking. It’s like a dream - seeing two versions of yourself at once, one forever trapped at 13 and the you that you’ve always been. But you’ve always been the other you, too, haven’t you?

 

Two sets of memories superimposed over each other. You almost can’t tell where one life ends and the other begins. You’re yourself and someone else at the same time, but that someone else is you too and you’re struggling to separate the two - struggling with the decisions you’d make normally and the decisions _she’d_ make. The fact that said decisions are really quite similar is not helping matters.

 

And the memories… oh, the memories aren’t helping either. There’s Jade, and you reach out to her as she sends a bullet through her head, and when you touch her arm it is warm and she turns.

 

“Rose?” she says, voice light and questioning, as if you just wanted to ask her something. As if you didn’t just watch her die.

 

Dave and Karkat stand together, not far away, and you look at them and see tragedy and age and death and the inescapable embrace of time. You look at Kanaya and you see motherhood and sorrow and depression - a woman who outlived all of her children and hates herself for it. There’s Dirk and Jake and Terezi and Vriska and Jane and Roxy and Callie. There’s John and Dad, and their passing didn’t make the news as much as anyone else’s - John’s depression making him reclusive and not often seen, whereas Dad was never one of the gods to begin with - at least, not according to the public. They’re all dead - horrible deaths, typical deaths; old age, murder, suicide - and yet, somehow, they’re right here in front of you.

 

Laughing. _Living_.

 

And you can’t let them die, not again. Not like that.

 

* * *

 

Karkat will be the first one to go, and you _see_ his degeneration even as no one else notices. So you flip through your books, through the spells and rituals summoning dark gods, and you know this will change you, but for Dave? For Dave, you would do _anything_.

 

When the gods come, you give yourself over willingly. They tell you they will allow you to save your friends, and you do. You give Karkat just a fraction of power, a brilliant thing, black and writhing with energy. It slithers down his throat and settles in his bloodstream, pulling at his body until it refuses to give out. Karkat is still Karkat, of course, you asked and you made them prove it - with a being from your new universe that you had studied its whole life. So, it was a bit weird after that - a bit too happy, a bit _off_ , but overall, it was still the same being it had been at the start.

 

So when Dave comes to you and tells you that Karkat isn’t right, that he’s not quite _Karkat_ anymore, you laugh him off. When he looks at you strangely, you don’t notice until it’s too late. You don’t notice until _everyone_ is - well, everyone except Karkat, of course, because he knows everything.

 

But you ignore it, because you’re doing the right thing; protecting everyone. They would thank you if they knew the truth, and you comfort yourself with that knowledge.

 

Dad Crocker comes next. He is getting older, not near death yet, but you want to be sure he won’t die. He doesn’t change into anything weird either, just keeps being Dad. John starts coming out more, and he’s giving you those same weird looks as everyone else. He’s talking to Dave more, though, so you count that as a win too.

 

Terezi you almost don’t manage to save - you fly into the black hole after her, pulling her out with all the power the dark gods left at your disposal, and she looks at you with such _betrayal_.

 

“What have you done?” she asks, horrified, and you give her part of your power too, because if you don’t she will be one of the next to go. Old age won’t take those you care for - not on your watch. Dave may have been unable to save them from Time, but you _can_ , and you will.

 

Honestly, when the time finally comes to save The Mayor, you’re not sure it’ll take. After all, no one really seems to know anything about the genetic or psychological makeup of carapacians, and without that information, you can never be entirely sure what will happen. For all you know, what you’re about to do could kill him. When it takes, and he looks up at you in that way that indicates he’s smiling, it's more of a relief than you’d care to admit. You’ve saved almost everyone - perhaps this time things won’t go as badly.

 

* * *

 

That is, of course, when it all goes to shit. Terezi _told Dave_ , and you’re not sure why - she does know you’ve saved them all, after all; stopped death and madness and degeneration and _suicide_ . You’ve protected everyone from Time, and the worst life and the human (and troll) psyche has to offer. But they come regardless, they come to _kill you_ and you have done nothing but help.

 

Without you sustaining the magic, Terezi and Karkat and The Mayor and Dad Crocker will _die_ , don’t they _realise_ that? And when they die, so will everyone else because you’ve _seen_ what happens - seen how immortality effects them when they realise that those they love will never be able to stand by their side. When they realise that they will outlive everyone they know.

 

You protected them, _saved them_ , and _this_ is how they repay you? With war and magic and bloodshed and murder?

 

“You did the wrong thing, Rose,” Dirk tells you, when he finally comes for you.

 

“I did what was needed!” You snarl, and slam your magic into him - he will see what you mean, you know he will. He will stand with you, help you show everyone that they’re being _unreasonable_ , you’re _helping_.

 

But he sees - you know he does, his eyes go glassy and then harden behind his shades and he looks like he’s about to cry - and he doesn’t stop. His sword still slams against your needles and he says;

 

“This wasn’t how to help!”

 

“It was the only way to help,” you reply, and know you are lying - you could have done it many other ways, but most involved murder and you are selfish; too selfish for a saviour. You did not want to watch your friends and family die around you once more.

 

“You _know_ that’s not true,” Dirk practically begs, even as he keeps fighting, “undo your magic.”

 

“They will die,” you laugh and it comes across desperate and insane, which you are, you suppose, “you are asking me to kill those I saved.”

 

“I am asking you to _set them free_.”

 

You refuse, one last time. Dave runs you through from behind.

 

As you choke on your blood - ichor, really, because ichor is the blood of the gods and you _are_ a god, borrowing power from other gods, and it makes sense that your blood is more of an oily black substance than the pure red you’re used to - Kanaya holds you, but her face shows her disappointment.

 

“I believed you were better than this,” she whispers into your hair. Her hands stroke down your sides, like she’s trying to comfort you. You can’t laugh very well - it comes across more like choking because there is liquid in your lungs and you are _drowning_ \- but you laugh nonetheless, coughing up some of the blood slowly drowning you.

 

“I _saved_ you,” you tell her, rasping and choking, gasping for air.

 

You find none

 

there is no _air_

 

please please please please _you cant breathe_

 

_“Shhhh, darling, it’s okay. Shhhh. Just breathe for me, okay? It’ll all be over soon.”_

 

There is nothing.

 


End file.
